


don't carry it all

by Beans (provetheworst)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Fluff, M/M, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22068664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/provetheworst/pseuds/Beans
Summary: The candles are burning low in Hubert's office, and Ferdinand has to stifle a yawn. He has been staring at the same document for nearly ten minutes now, and still has no greater insight into how to respond. Were it still early afternoon, he would have had a response half-written by now.He sighs. "Hubert, my friend, are you ..."Looking up, he trails off, realizing belatedly that Hubert has not made a sound nor moved in quite some time. He has his head down, face turned to the side awkwardly against the desk, quill still poised over paper - though it wobbles ominously, liable to fall at any moment if his hand shifts. Whatever he was writing has a huge blot of ink seeping into it.-Or: Ferdinand takes care of Hubert.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 28
Kudos: 366





	don't carry it all

**Author's Note:**

> title from the [decemberists song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eDO4bzFWewk), which I kept listening to while writing this.

The candles are burning low in Hubert's office, and Ferdinand has to stifle a yawn. He has been staring at the same document for nearly ten minutes now, and still has no greater insight into how to respond. Were it still early afternoon, he would have had a response half-written by now.

He sighs. "Hubert, my friend, are you ..."

Looking up, he trails off, realizing belatedly that Hubert has not made a sound nor moved in quite some time. He has his head down, face turned to the side awkwardly against the desk, quill still poised over paper - though it wobbles ominously, liable to fall at any moment if his hand shifts. Whatever he was writing has a huge blot of ink seeping into it.

Ferdinand stifles a smile. Though they are alone, he does not want to be seen as mocking. It is just that he does not know that he has ever seen the minister of the Imperial household sleep before, outside of once in the infirmary when Hubert had overexerted himself in battle, stores of magic utterly depleted. That had been rather more worrying, and Ferdinand had hovered around for hours until Hubert awoke and Ferdinand could give him a proper scolding.

For a moment, Ferdinand considers waking him, telling him to get to bed, but - he's never seen Hubert sleep. Rousing him from his slumber might mean Hubert not getting back to sleep for hours yet. Ferdinand himself has trouble getting back to sleep sometimes when something startles him in the night or when his dreams are especially troubled.

In this moment, Hubert looks peaceful, and Ferdinand does not want to risk ruining that.

Mind made up, he rises from the table and grabs his jacket, which was slung over the back of his chair. Creeping quietly toward Hubert, he holds the jacket out, draping it gently over the other man's shoulders like a blanket or a shawl. A tiny crease in Hubert's forehead eases after the jacket is settled over him, and Ferdinand smiles down at him.

He almost smooths Hubert's hair back, imagines doing so and kissing Hubert's temple, but that is - even if Hubert never knew it happened, it seems entirely too forward. The other man is already vulnerable, and Ferdinand feels honored that he is well-trusted enough that Hubert can sleep around him. He will not take advantage of the moment in such a way, for it would be altogether too selfish of him.

Ferdinand stands and watches Hubert sleep.

Finally, shaking his head, he leaves, retreating for his own chambers where he can get some rest of his own. The document he was working on can wait. It will be better served tomorrow, when Ferdinand is awake and alert.

As he leaves, Ferdinand spares one last glance at Hubert. Something about seeing his own jacket over the pale, gaunt figure makes Ferdinand's heart flutter, a pleasant tightness in his chest.

He snuffs the candles and leaves.

Tomorrow he will go to the market, he's decided. This moment has made him bold.

-

The next morning, Ferdinand's jacket is hanging next to the door of his office. It's been recently laundered, and someone - possibly Hubert himself - has magicked it dry; there's a telltale smell, almost like ozone and abyssal ichor, hanging around it, that Ferdinand is familiar with from years on the battlefield.

He pulls it on and buries his nose in the collar for a moment before setting about the day's work.

-

The war is nearing its end and Hubert has been getting less and less sleep. It becomes clear at their weekly teatime - his response times dulled, his wit a little less razor sharp. Ferdinand starts to worry, but there is not much he can do. The trouble is that Hubert thinks himself as replaceable, just another cog in the machine, and is willing to grind his bones to dust if it means victory for the emperor and her armies.

Perhaps the reason it bothers Ferdinand so much is because of how much it reminds him of himself. Neither of them places much value on their own lives, but Hubert is far more key to Edelgard's happiness and motivation than Ferdinand; while they have become friends over the years, it is Hubert who has been her stalwart since childhood. Even Byleth is closer to her. Ferdinand does not begrudge their Professor this closeness, of course. He spent entirely too long antagonizing Edelgard in their youth. It is lucky she trusts him as well as she does now, given their shared history, and he could not want for more.

In any case: Hubert is tired. So is Ferdinand, but he worries more about Hubert than himself, because for all he plays himself off as a cog in the machine, Hubert is indeed irreplaceable. If not to the war effort, or even the emperor herself, then to Ferdinand.

There is no one else he would rather take afternoon tea with. They have a standing time set every week, but try to fit in more when they can - sometimes it is dinner, sometimes it is breakfast. Sometimes they simply talk a little longer than the others when a strategy meeting has concluded. 

Though they carve out time for one another, apparently Hubert does not carve out time for himself.

"Hubert," Ferdinand says, leaning forward across the table. He has his forearms pressed against the edge of the table. hands clasped under his chin. "When was the last time you slept for more than an hour?"

Hubert narrows his eyes. "I don't often keep track of how long I sleep. It's rather difficult to count in that state."

"Aha!" Ferdinand jabs a finger in Hubert's general direction. "I see your attempt at misdirection, and I will not allow it. You simply must rest. It is time for a nap!"

"Absolutely not. There is too much to be done." That, Ferdinand will admit to himself, is difficult to disagree with. He will not say as much.

"Not so much that you must work until you die. Listen, if there is anything you can delegate to me, please do so. I will happily assist you with whatever you feel I can be trusted with. I just want to be sure you are well enough rested to properly serve the emperor."

"Is that so."

"Well, and I worry for you," Ferdinand admits, earnest and nervous with it. "I am well aware of the sort of trouble that can come of not getting enough sleep. It is almost enough to make me regret giving you that coffee!"

Something shutters in Hubert's expression, a near-invisible change to the cant of his mouth, the faintest tension at the corners of his eyes. Ferdinand pays far too much attention to Hubert to miss these signs. He doubts anyone else, barring Edelgard, would notice. "Oh?"

Ferdinand is tired, too. He sits back in his chair, fixing his cravat, and looks off to the side. He has misspoken and needs a moment to figure out just how to clear the air and make his meaning clearer. "That is - not because I regret giving you a gift! But it keeps you awake; that is the trouble."

Hubert chuckles under his breath. "That's quite the oversight on your part."

"I shall have to get you chamomile tea next time," Ferdinand decides in that moment. "Or ask Linhardt to recommend some herbs -"

Hubert waves him off. "I despise chamomile. And really, there's nothing to worry about. I sleep often enough."

"Do you, though?"

"I have yet to start hallucinating, so I must," Hubert says. "Yes. And besides, you're being a hypocrite; it's clear you haven't gotten enough sleep either. Why, then, should I?"

"At this rate, I will have to sleep with you, to make sure you actually get some rest."

Hubert starts laughing, unbridled compared to his earlier dignified chuckle. Few would call his laugh exuberant, especially compared to people like Caspar, but for him the sound is quite dramatic.

"What?" Ferdinand pauses, then feels his face flush red with the realization. "Ah, that is. Well!"

"Well." Hubert, ever the master of self control, allows himself one last chuckle before comporting himself once more. The circles under his eyes are so much darker than usual. He really does look tired.

Again: Ferdinand is tired, too, of a lot of things. Physical and mental exhaustion, the emotional weight of the war. The long, slow pace of their yet-undeclared courtship, for that is surely what this is though they have not said as much. It is not that he wants to rush things, of course. He would do this properly or not at all. But sometimes he looks at Hubert and finds himself wanting more than he thinks Hubert is ready to give. "I misspoke," Ferdinand says slowly. "Though - not so badly as I might have."

At that, Hubert's eyes widen, a touch of color rising to his cheeks. And how rare and treasured it is to see that - the unflappable Hubert von Vestra, minister of the imperial household, blushing at something Ferdinand has said. 

"We both need rest," Ferdinand continues, fond and a little pleased with himself, too. "And there is a certain level of trust between us. You say that I need rest. I say that you do. So! I propose that both of us retire, if only for a little while, to - to whoever's rooms you prefer."

"You would have us *actually* sleep together," Hubert says, incredulous. "Absurd."

"You have yet to say no."

"Because I am so taken aback."

Ferdinand considers Hubert's responses, and rises from his seat at last. "Well, then. Come along."

Hubert stands as well, pushing his chair in. His movement is always so controlled and polite, whether he is trying to intimidate or simply going about his day; Ferdinand admires that. "I have yet to accept this foolish idea of yours."

"And you still refrain from turning me down," Ferdinand says cheerfully, heading toward Hubert's rooms. He thinks Hubert will feel safer there, if nothing else. "We had, what, another hour or so until you needed to depart? That will suffice for our needs."

"I think you've gone mad," Hubert decides, though he does fall into step beside Ferdinand. "We should go to the infirmary. You could be cursed."

"Or, I could be right, and you are tired and misjudging the situation. This is all - perfectly reasonable." It is not, but Ferdinand will not back down now.

"Ah. So reasonable. I am sure our comrades nap together all the time."

"Caspar and Linhardt certainly do."

"Only because Linhardt is *always* napping," Hubert says, laughing again. That laugh terrified Ferdinand, once - intimidated him beyond reason, though he always did his best to hide it. Now, though, he does his best to hear it as often as possible. Strange, how time has changed its tenor, shifted the way Hubert's laughter hits his ears and heart. "I'm sure it's hard for them to avoid it."

"Make all the excuses you like; we still have friends who have done exactly what I propose." They arrive at Hubert's door, and Ferdinand stands aside, gesturing toward the lock. Hubert sighs, but cannot quite hide his smile even as he lowers his head and unlocks the door.

Through his study, to his bedroom. Ferdinand feels surprisingly calm. He has imagined a moment similar to this many times, but in his daydreams things are far more heated, with an entirely different intent. Still: some part of him cries out, saying that this is more vulnerable by far, that Hubert agreeing - even without saying so - to rest in his presence is one of the surest signs of trust he will ever receive from anyone.

He can imagine undressing Hubert all he likes some other time. For now, he simply removes his jacket and his boots and lies down, and Hubert does the same.

They lie across from each other.

"You really intend to sleep."

"Yes," Ferdinand acknowledges. He could be bold, he thinks, could say that he wants more; that he wants to - but he backs down in his own mind before even finishing the thought, and forces himself to continue to speak. "I do. Did you think me a liar?"

"Absurd." Hubert adjusts his pillow. They stare at each other in silence. Hubert is blinking too often. "Absolutely absurd."

"I think," Ferdinand says after the moment has dragged on a little too long, "you should close your eyes."

Hubert does. Or - Ferdinand must assume he does, as one eye is ever-obscured by a curtain of dark hair.

Bravery overrides sense for Ferdinand in that moment, so he allows himself a moment's indiscretion, reaching out to brush Hubert's hair back. At the touch, Hubert's eyes snap open, and Ferdinand has to smile ruefully.

"I wanted to be sure you actually closed both eyes," Ferdinand says, voice far softer than he intended. The green of Hubert's eyes in the low light that creeps through the curtains reminds him of pale leaves, deprived of sunlight. How foolish that such a mundane thought strikes him as romantic. Ferdinand could lean over, he thinks, and kiss Hubert, but he does not. He has set himself to a goal and he will not flinch from it.

Hubert is staring. His eyes wander slightly, tracking across Ferdinand's face, but he is staring. "I see."

"And that is the trouble," Ferdinand agrees. Still: he has not been rebuked, and he is tired and brave, so though he does not kiss Hubert, he does stroke the side of his face before finally withdrawing his hand. Hubert's eyes flutter shut again.

His breathing steadies, and he stills, relaxing. That he fell asleep so quickly is a testament to Hubert's exhaustion; Ferdinand had known his assessment correct when Hubert had put up such a weak counterargument outside. 

After several minutes, when he is sure Hubert is soundly asleep, Ferdinand rises, and goes to find a member of the palace staff, telling them that Hubert is indisposed and will have to cancel his meeting for the afternoon.

Then he returns to bed, and watches Hubert sleep for a while before, at some point, falling asleep himself. With Hubert's warmth so near, with the sheets and mattress smelling of him - that cold, strange scent tinged by dark magic that has somehow become a comfort - Ferdinand sleeps soundly for the first time in weeks.

**Author's Note:**

> yes hello i am @aflightybroad on twitter and @aflightybroad@goblin.camp on mastodon, please feel free to come yell about fire emblem with me


End file.
